Independence Festival

Independence Festival
Date of publication: 1193134005

Flo has passed his last day. He was dying a yellow flower on the lost medicine of pillows. Bleeding deep wounds on the walls of the close rooms. How close that third between them would be difficult to breathe-flo and yellow flower. Third Extra. If you long look at your own palm, the palm starts to exist separately from you. So also pain-when long toleresh it-ceases to be in you. And then it becomes indifferent whether it really hurts or just seems to be a sore. He used to this. Lesya-too. Therefore he was very rare and very briefly to his grandfather. It anyway. And her-No. She is young and wants to think about her own happiness. What is the grandfather here, who has not even bothered to do one of his promise-“to make a fish”, that is to teach her to swim? And they said, they have time to death… Do not have time. Lesya did not want to go to Flo. But came every Saturday-bring and put on his pillow fresh yellow flower, removing the old, a snap. Yellow is said to be a color of separation. It is necessary-always prepare yourself for separation with those who love or… Who hate it. So it is necessary-yellow flower. She did not say to him “grandfather”, said, as everything-“Flo”, secretly holding a heavy children’s image-for the same “fish”, which never happened. And it was the greatest and strongest dream of all her life-to learn to swim. And Flo promised… And also promised art academy, personal exhibitions around the world and much of what can be seduced by talented, young and not devoid of ambition of the person. And yet… Cheated. Not fulfilled. Did not want to perform. Envy the granddaughter. She has a future, he has the same-neither the future, nor the past… Flo-just initials, first letters… He didn’t even have a name. And no one was interested in hiding behind those letters. So-flo-like something miserable, bloodless, mean kind. Just Flo. No one now needs a sculptor, who once had talent, glory, money, seven, and all that dream mortal… But the bronze idols, in which he put his own share of himself, did not justify his predatory, neither forces nor dreams of eternity. The idols were just as mortal as the one who believed in them and healed, as the god of Adam-to then punish and destroy, but, unlike God, destroying together and himself… The old Flo cried for life-could live it and did not have lived. In the city stood the heat. I wanted to escape from it as soon as possible and without hesitation. Lesya jumped in a model of the car and kissing the man who believed in his beloved, thought that the world probably consists not of molecules and atoms, but only with the hot asphalt, from which is sick-to dizziness. Her body-solid asphalt, just like the body of someone who sits next to her. Brain, heart, hands-all asphalt. Eyes Only-real. Looked at the modem. -Happy Independence Day! -Thanks, you also. It is necessary to celebrate properly. Properly… A year ago, Lesia caught himself in a thought that begins to fear the holidays. Just the holidays stopped to bring her expected heartfelt joy. The tales were in childhood, and every holiday became a test. Nothing new. Nothing so, why you could be surprised. And so I wanted-all the time to believe in a miracle. -I once again was your mom, mod. As if we were sitting with you in my room, and it was calling your mobile to ask how you live. No one else offends her son in the world in which she left him. You, when speaking to her, was so joyful as a child… I have never seen you so. Then you conveyed the phone to me. Your mother, you hear, fashion, wished us happiness. and asked to convey to you, that thou hast not experienced-where she is now, she is very cozy and warm. And then said, that sent us with you-for some reason my email-a small gift from my world. We immediately checked the mail. Modded, you know what was there, in your mom’s virtual letter? Video from Paradise. That we have made sure of her own eyes, that she is good where she went from you. You can’t imagine what we saw in my dream, on the video! Truly-unearthy beauty! But the words of those frames do not describe. Only to watch and feel. -An interesting dream,-a modest turned to her face for a moment to say only two words, but Lesya had time for this moment to see how to hold two shiny tears in the cuticle of his eyes. “Only eyes-real”-again thought. For all-asphalt. -Interesting,-agreed-after such a sleep can not be afraid of death…-in twenty-four of death in general, you can not think. Now the model looked the road. I did not want Lesia to be watched on the route of the two men of the winter, which could not hide from it-not her case, where they will be sent and where to stop. Lesson son touched him for living. It hurts stung. Even Lesia became awkward. Koala Mosta. Clever, responsive, gentle, cute… And everything else that likes girls. I did not know, though, how long will last the love. Nothing everlasting happens. She remembered about Flo. Today is Saturday. No matter how much they want, but you have to forgive the grandfather. At least because he-also an eternal, and Lesia-the only and direct his successor. To inherit, in addition to a one-room apartment in the city center, it is nothing, but it is today-a very comforting price for such weekly self-torture-ostostochtiy extreme passes to the old. Once it will finally be able to become independent of the parents-to live separately. To arrange your life as it deems fit. Neither Tatko-teacher nor mom-doctor will control every step of her. Do not reflect what is right, but what-not. At least it is worth going to Flo and bring him on Saturdays-yellow flower. Endure a wolf view and watch how a terrible black abyss is opened under his bed. Breathe drugs and hints to death. Although… The girl feared to admit to himself another crazy truth: She came to Flo – because she liked to watch him die. She was pleased with his grandfather’s nickname and helplessness. She unknowingly sucked this hidden consolation of the last remnants of his life forces, selected the latest energy. And therefore always went from him… Enlightened. Lesya hated Flo. Quietly hated-afraid of his own hatred. When it was little, grandfather took her with him on the holiday-opening of the monument to some leader. Was the beginning of May. That’s the same as chestnuts. The grandfather was welcomed by high and lowland uncles in shiny shoes and black suits. He shook his hand and praised for what was able to do the chieftain so, “how alive.” And then there was a great feast. One of those uncles has taken lesu to the cabinet with expensive furniture. Planted on a m \ ‘ what leather chair. Gave her a glass of chiffon lemonade and a creamy cake. And then asked if she liked the remembrance, made by grandfather. Lesya answered then with all the children’s sincerity: “No, I did not like it, it is very scary and similar to the devil.” And still remembrance is a furious expression of the face of that uncle in a black suit. He immediately called Flo, who then was not yet a Flo, and was Leonid Alekseevich. Took him to the other corner of the cabinet and something long spoke. Then shouted, flapping his hands. Grandfather became sad and concerned. In the evening of the same day, he hurt to hit a Lew on a light baby-skier-right off the red spots-and ordered never more in life not to talk to anyone that she thinks of his remembrance. Lesya is crying and said that there will always be only the truth, even if it shall be fought. Then Flo was forced to replace “Knut” on “gingerbread”-to negotiate with his grandson

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